WDGD 74

Chapter 74

Fernan lifted his head and looked her straight in the eyes.

His gaze was shattered—devoid of any wavering, filled only with complete darkness.

Yulia’s lips parted in shock.

“What… what do you mean…”

Before she could finish her sentence, Fernan straightened his previously hunched body.

Turning around without hesitation, he strode forward, and Yulia, staring at his back, looked dazed for a moment.

Only after he exited the room did she snap out of it and hurry after him.

“…Your Highness!”

Yulia tried to close the distance between them urgently, but Fernan didn’t look back and swiftly turned the corner at the end of the corridor.

As he stepped onto the deck, heavy rain was now pouring mercilessly from the sky.

Fernan cut through the rain and approached Cedric, who had been bound by the knights.

He drew the sword from his waist with a smooth, practiced motion. The sharp blade aimed directly at the kneeling Cedric’s neck.

“No! Don’t!”

Yulia burst onto the deck after him, shouting desperately.

The moment he raised the sword, she dashed forward and grabbed his arm.

“Stop! Why—why are you trying to harm someone who’s done nothing wrong?!”

At her desperate plea, Fernan paused. Seizing the moment, Yulia stepped in front of him.

His lifeless eyes brimmed with a clear murderous intent. He truly meant to kill Cedric.

At that moment, Yulia felt a crushing wave of emptiness.

She had thought this man had changed, even slightly. That maybe, he genuinely cared for her.

So she had allowed herself a faint glimmer of hope.

Even knowing she had left without a word—maybe he’d understand.

Maybe he’d realize she just wanted freedom from her family.

But now she knew. This man would never let her go, no matter the reason.

Yulia looked up at him, still holding the sword.

“I’ll go. I’ll stay by your side, Your Highness.”

“……”

“So please, let Cedric go. Don’t hurt him.”

Her voice, muttered in surrender, trembled with tears.

As tears welled up in her eyes, Fernan’s vacant gaze finally began to waver.

While he hesitated, Yulia turned and walked toward Cedric.

Only then did Fernan slowly lower the sword and let it drop to the floor.

“I’m sorry, Cedric… this is all because of me…”

“Yulia…”

Holding back her tears, Yulia clumsily began to untie the rope binding Cedric’s wrists.

Cedric watched her with worried eyes, his brows furrowed.

Fernan stood motionless, as though rooted to the spot, taking in the sight.

It felt as if another invisible wall had risen between Yulia and him.

Just like long ago—when he’d finally found Yulia again, yet couldn’t bring himself to approach her.

Only this time, he knew with certainty: he would never let her go again.

“…Yulia.”

He muttered her name blankly, though she didn’t look at him. She was solely focused on freeing the man before her.

The rain poured heavily on Yulia. It was impossible to tell whether she was crying or if it was just rainwater streaming down her face.

Her hands kept slipping on the tightly tied ropes.

Watching her in silence, Fernan finally approached with clear focus in his eyes.

He removed his soaked robe and placed it over her, then gently took her hands away from the rope.

Yulia looked up at him, eyes swollen.

“Untie him,” Fernan ordered the knight nearby. He bent down and lifted Yulia into his arms.

Only after confirming the knight began freeing Cedric did her ragged breathing slowly return to normal.

“…Please let Cedric leave. Let him go in front of me.”

Yulia murmured weakly. Her drenched body felt weightless, as if hollow.

Fernan nodded slightly to the knight, indicating to do as she said.

Then he pulled Yulia into his arms even tighter, almost obsessively.

As she requested, Cedric was quietly released before her eyes.

Even after being freed, Cedric couldn’t leave easily. Yulia murmured like she was about to cry.

“I’m sorry, Cedric. I’m really okay now, so you don’t have to help me anymore…”

She kept repeating her apologies, and when Cedric reached out his hand, the knights immediately blocked him.

Only after Yulia begged several more times did Cedric finally turn away.

In the end, she had brought nothing but harm to him. Their escape didn’t even last a full day—it had ended so meaninglessly.

Yulia returned to the mansion.

Held in Fernan’s arms, she barely managed to keep her heavy eyelids open.

He didn’t say a single word during the entire walk. Nor did he look down at her in his arms.

What they thought would be a passing shower hadn’t stopped, soaking them both as they entered the mansion.

Their waterlogged footsteps echoed through the silent halls. Fernan walked up the stairs without a word and headed straight for Yulia’s bedroom.

Creak. He opened the door and entered, seating her on the bed.

While Yulia stared blankly at the floor, Fernan knelt down on one knee in front of her.

He removed the robe draped over her shoulders. Then, he began unbuttoning her blouse, one by one.

When he was halfway through, Yulia raised a hand and stopped him.

“…It’s okay.”

Fernan, his eyes hollow, finally looked up at her. Meeting his gaze, Yulia let out a faint sigh.

She was the one who had been dragged back, yet he looked like the one about to die.

Suppressing a throbbing headache, she gently removed his hand.

Thanks to the robe he had given her, her undergarments weren’t wet. In contrast, he was soaked from head to toe.

Watching the water drip from him, she slowly stood and grabbed a cloth from the nightstand.

She returned and gently wiped his face. Fernan’s pupils trembled wildly.

“Why…”

He barely managed to speak as he grabbed her wrist. The cloth dropped to the floor.

He rose to his feet, and their gazes met. Then, she lowered her head and began unbuttoning his shirt.

As she undid each button on the soaked fabric clinging to his skin, Fernan’s face twisted.

“Why are you doing this… huh?”

“I’ll ask the maid to bring dry clothes.”

Ignoring his words, Yulia calmly unfastened the last button. Through the open shirt, his wet muscles were visible.

She turned and stepped out to ask the maid for clean towels and clothes.

Fernan could only watch her blankly—almost as if he were asking why she wasn’t cursing him.

Why she would bother to dry his body with her own hands.

Leaving those questions behind, Yulia returned with fresh clothes and towels.

She spread out a towel and approached him again. But before she could start drying him, Fernan grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him.

He guided her to the bed, and her frail body collapsed weakly onto it.

With a trembling voice, Fernan murmured,

“Yulia… curse me. Just curse me…”

“……”

“Tell me to get lost. Tell me to die. Tell me you hate me and can’t stand the sight of me… Isn’t that what you should do?”

Yulia looked up at him quietly.

He had clearly been prepared to receive all her hatred and resentment.

Of course, she did resent him. He was the one who had blocked her path.

She knew she should be angry instead of submitting like this.

But she just wanted to let go of all those exhausting emotions.

Maybe it was because she was just too tired—physically and emotionally—to hate him again.

Yes… she was tired of it all. If there was truly no way to escape, then maybe it was better to just accept it.

Maybe that’s why… she had wanted to wipe him clean, without realizing it.

Because she didn’t want to leave this fragile man alone.

“…Are you doing this because you’re afraid I’ll go back and kill him?”

Fernan asked with a pained expression. He seemed to believe her actions were only to protect Cedric.

Yulia closed her eyes for a moment and murmured,

“Think what you want.”

After a pause, she opened her eyes and continued,

“I’ll stay here… for as long as Your Highness wants.”

“……”

“I’ll do everything. Isn’t that enough?”

Her voice was flat, without emotion. There was not a hint of hatred toward him.

Looking down at her, Fernan twisted his lips bitterly.

To him, it sounded like she was saying she’d do anything to protect that priest.

She would stay by his side, obediently, just to save Cedric.

That was the only way Fernan could interpret her words. And those words brought him yet another wave of despair.

Yulia watched the redness gather in his eyes with a detached expression.

Drops of water ran down from his trembling chin—ones she hadn’t managed to wipe away.

Staring at him blankly, she unconsciously reached out.

She gently wiped his chin with soft fingers, then slowly pulled her hand away.

Fernan immediately grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers tightly on the bed.

“…You said you’d do everything.”

“……”

“Then never leave me. Stay with me until you die.”

His voice was rough, his eyes bloodshot. Despite the intensity, his expression was full of devastation.

“No matter where you go, I’ll find you. And next time… I might really kill him.”

“……”

“So please… don’t leave me again…”

He swallowed his words in pain, staring into her blue, wavering eyes.

As they held each other’s gaze, Yulia eventually looked away slightly.

Her eyes landed on the scars visible through his open shirt—deep, unhealed, everlasting marks.

She looked from those wounds to his tormented face.

Finally, she met his eyes again.

Following her gaze with desperate intensity, Fernan leaned in and kissed her.

It was a rough, devouring kiss, as if trying to consume everything.

 

Yet Yulia didn’t push him away.